My life is just JACKED up!
by parmakai66
Summary: How many times does the colonel have to tell you to stand down before you get it? The statistical equation to describe how fast a rogue mission can go from bad to hell in a hand basket.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Unit and its characters belong to CBS or someone else. No infringement intended.

Summary: Sam McBride's thoughts on his mission.

_**My life is just really jacked up. **_

Sam McBride shoved the key into the lock of his meager apartment in the NCO barracks at Fort Griffith. He walked into the room and threw his bag on the floor. Stumbling into the kitchen, he pulled the door to the fridge open and reached inside a cardboard box, pulling out an aluminum can. He kicked the door closed and shuffled through the darkened living area. The hiss of the broken seal filled the room as Sam slumped onto the couch.

He tasted the foam before the liquid hit his tongue. The fluid slid easily down his throat and caused him to grimace slightly. There was something to be said about a can of cheap beer. The vile, skunky potion that took away the pain and deposited a short-lived euphoria it is place was a mainstay in society as a quick fix to reality. Short lived was the operative word and in Sam McBride's case it probably didn't even begin describe or cover up the heartache that was burning inside of his chest. Sam drained the can and crumpled the tin in his fist. He tossed the metal across the room and listened to the hollow sound as it made contact with the wall and bounced haphazardly to the floor. He leaned his head against the cushion and closed his keys.

_Loner, self-centered, arrogant, over-confident, _the words taunted him like a bad dream. Words thrown in his face today by Major General Heath and Colonel Ryan during the course of their meeting. Evil, sadistic words that tore at his heart and took his mind to a place where he needed to stay for a while … a place where he would betray any trust that he had earned from people he would someday call his friends. Executing orders that he would follow to the letter to achieve some gain in this fight on terrorism, tasks that he would complete that violated his personal oath of ethics, yet needed to be enacted in a certain order to set himself up for this mission.

_This mission. _ Sam ran his hands over his face and rested his forearms on the back of the couch. _I have been assigned a mission by the Colonel that commands The Unit. A rogue assignment under the guise of their everyday operation that, if successful, will remove one of the most hearts-less terroristic bastards from the face of the earth. _ Sam stood up from the couch and shuffled into the kitchen again as he thought about the task in front of him.

_I don't know these people, I should remain detached from these people, _he reminded himself as he thought through his plan. It in his heart he knew it was going to be impossible. He was already connecting with the team, understanding their quirks and personalities. He felt himself started to bond with these men and he liked it. It had been a long time since he felt like he belonged somewhere. _That's why Major General Heath picked me, _he thought as he flicked open a fresh can of beer.

"I just hope I don't end up with the same fate as the terrorist."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the reviews!

Jacked Up 2

"You wanme .. ah, sir?" Sam guffawed in protest as his latest orders settled in. The details were disturbing to say the least. _Get close, take what you need to make this look good and get out, the_ words were carefully glided to convey a specific message. The meaning wasn't lost on Sam McBride. The thought of it disgusted him. He could do certain things to monsters in this world, but to attack an innocent was something else. It went against every fiber of his morality. "Sir," Sam grunted as silence fell between them.

"You have a problem with those orders soldier?" Colonel Ryan asked the staff sergeant standing in front of his desk.

The icy glare burned a hole through his head as his throat closed up like a vise grip. _Man up McBride,_ he practically yelled in his head. _Why would this target be any different from the other? __Why? Because it is … this isn't right. This target doesn't have anything to do with Leon Drake or this fricken mission. _Sam swallowed hard and mouthed words that audible failed to reach his lips. "How can you be sure this will work?" he finally squawked out, trying to compartmentalize the task in front of him.

"I'm sure you can find a way to play it off. Your record seems to indicate you've been down this road before," Ryan said leaning back in his chair.

"Those accusations were unfounded sir," McBride retorted quickly. Defensively. "Just a girl in a bar with an over active imagination. My girlfriend can attest to that."

"Like I said, I'm sure you'll find a way to play this off," Ryan said smugly. "And lose the girlfriend; it doesn't bode well for your image."

It was all Sam could do to reign in his words. It was one thing to be put on a counter mission against alpha team. It was one thing to force him to go rogue, even though he relished the thought of doing it. Sam was crafty and resourceful and those "boy next door" looks worked in his favor to gain people's trust. While he had all that going for him, it was a completely different story to hold his jaded past over his head and expect him to do something morally wrong. And then ordered to break up with his girlfriend on top of it? Sam sighed silently and stared at a point on the wall just over Ryan's head.

"What if she doesn't resist sir?" Sam questioned as he formulated a plan in his head.

"I don't think you need to worry Romeo," Ryan remarked sitting up in his chair. He shuffled some papers on the desk and handed an envelope to the staff sergeant. "I have it on good authority that she plays on the same team as you and me."

"Meaning she's a lesbian," Sam vocalized the hidden meaning in the colonel's words. _Like that is supposed to make me feel better? _Sam questioned himself as he pulled the documents from the pouch. _Being a lesbian doesn't give the opposition carte blanche to abuse a person, _Sam thought in disgust as he stared at the envelope contents.

"As I said, she won't be an active participant."

"And what if she presses charges," Sam started to argue again.

"Sergeant, are you questioning your orders?" Ryan asked standing up at his desk.

"I'm just …"

"You're just what? Worried about the toes you're going to step on along the way? If you're going to make this cover stick, you going to need to stow your morality, soldier. No one ever said being in the unit was easy. We all make sacrifices to be part of the team. All of us. We're expected to do unspeakable things to some of the biggest assholes in this world and there are always causalities. This objective … while the consequences are unavoidable... this objective will understand the reasons and the rules," Ryan growled explosively. "If you have any doubt about your ability to complete this mission, you better speak up now."

"I can complete the mission, sir," Whiplash retorted.

"Play it up good then," Ryan said crisply. "Alpha team won't be fooled by some ragtag theatrics."

Sam McBride stowed the envelope in his jacket pocket and dismissed himself from the office before he decked his commanding officer. There were a lot of reasons to justify what he was about to do … washing out a terrorist cell, killing the man who threatened to wipe out the Alpha team wives and the president of the United States … but there was no excuse to stomach the propellant that would get him there. _For now, _he reminded himself. _These are my orders and I'm duty bound to follow them. Signing on to the unit was like marrying your wife. I Sam McBride do solemnly swear to do whatever it takes to play out my mission and kicked terrorist ass even if it means burning every bridge I've ever built and hurting people I consider my friends along the way. _He rolled his eyes and sighed heavily as he neared the locker room.

"My life is just really jacked up," he muttered under his breath.


	3. Chapter 3

Jacked Up 3.

It never ceased to amaze Sam McBride how a little deviance would welcome a rebel into a crowd. After his attack on Warrant Officer Sullivan and the standoff at the car dealership, hardly a week had passed before Leon Drake's crew dropped a calling card at his door. Three meetings later, Sam was inside the largest domestic terrorist cell known to date. Their arrogance amazed McBride, so smug and confident that they were above the law, the blind loyalty in the layers of the organization and the swift justice to anyone that faltered in their belief. Even a simple conversation with any of the crew produced a slimly sensation that sickened Sam beyond belief.

Yet, Sam fed right into their little charade. In fact, he reveled in it. Hamming right up in the lead role in the play, he wormed his way closer to Drake every day. His sit reps and intel pleased those at the top as he manipulated it both ways. Truth to his duty, lies to his foe. Somedays Sam had difficulty keeping it all straight. It was only the nights that carved a hole in his soul.

He had broken protocol by trying to warn her a few nights before it happened. _Don't let anyone take advantage of you,_ he had told her during an op in France. He had chuckled slyly as she informed him in no uncertain terms of her tales with DoD. In those few short moments at the bar that night, he learned her strengths, her weaknesses and her fears. And then, less than a week later, he used it all against her.

The disappointed look in her eye at the bar had yanked at his conscious. The annoyed tone and the abrasive attitude in the parking lot worked right into his ruse. He had expected her to fight as he pressed himself against her. Her aggressive response was nearly a turn-on for him and on another day, in another circumstance he may have even had her … converted her to like being with a man. That was not be, in fact, any chance of a friendship between them was irreplaceably damaged forever. Lost were the days of carefree banter. Sam suspected any conversation would be on professional terms now … if she was still there when he came back. Even though he held a silent torch for some understanding, he knew better than to believe. If he was on the outside looking in, he would have demanded it be that way. Maybe the team would be on his side, Bob said he was the new guy….maybe that would work into his favor. The bottom rung on a ladder that he so desperately wanted to climb.

Despite everything he knew about Jonas Blaine and the unit … His stretch to the first rung went a little too smoothly. He had expected to be hog-tied and shackled with his sexist, belligerent commentary in front of the TOP. Yet, the team just let it go, apparently shrugging it off as a last crusade of a drunken solider. On a sunny day in the park, he would have heeded the warning from Bob, but on that black night, the feeble attempt to warn a brother off was an accelerant to the smoldering flame. Oh how he wished he could have been a fly on the wall when Red Cap showed up at the briefing with her black eye. In the end, Alpha team's response was really all he needed to know. The team was out for blood and Sam McBride would be their causality. However cliché … all was fair in love and war.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Jacked Up 4

_I am so fffft##cked! _Sam sighed heavily as he milled around the dingy excuse for a hotel room. He ran his hands through his hair and rested his palms against the back of his neck. He could hear Leon Drake making idle chitchat with the Gillliam's in the area just outside the door. _Molly, Molly, Molly, _Sam thought as his mind scrambled to factor this little hiccup into his plan. _How many times does the colonel have to tell you to stand down before you get it? _"Apparently not enough," Sam mumbled as he walked toward the door to employ some damage control.

A minute later, Sam was wishing he was telepathic. _Please god just play along or Jonas is going to cut my ass into little pieces with a dull nail file, _Sam silently begged. He stared at Molly with a searing glare that hopefully sent the only message that she needed to hear. By some miracle of god, she did exactly what he needed her to do and then some to make it look good in front of the other guards. Whether her actions were genuinely part of his game or just dumb luck, he didn't really care; he needed her to keep it up to stay alive. Drake had already told him that the Gilliam's were a liability that needed to be eliminated. If his new boss ordered him to do anything to Molly Blaine, it would compromise Sam's cover. _The colonel ordered me to take whatever steps necessary to complete my mission, but if I have to kill my teammate's wife … I might as well swallow my gun. _

Running interference so Drake could concentrate on his original intentions with the Gilliam's proved more difficult that Sam expected. _Not only does Molly not follow orders, but she can't seem to stop running her mouth, _Sam surmised as he tried again to deflect her revelations about the unit's activities and her involvement on this mission.

"Everyone knows I'm with Susan," Molly said defiantly as she paced in front of Sam. "And that includes my husband," she sneered in his face.

"No," Sam replied drawing out the oh. "I think Jonas is on the other side of the world right now," he added. He played with top of his Zippo lighter, the same lighter the colonel slipped Sam to aide in his escape after his little foray at the car dealership. Jim Ballard, Drake's henchman, leaned against the wall and chuckled. Sam glanced in his direction and then leveled his gaze directly on Molly.

"I'm guessing he has no idea what kind of trouble you've gotten into, does he? In fact, _no one _does … do they?" Sam questioned her, implying that not even Colonel Ryan was aware that she was still in contact with the Gilliam's. Her moment of hesitation and the flippant shake of her head was all the answer he needed. Despite her attempts to hide her fear, he knew that Molly knew she was in deep shit and like it or not, Sam McBride was her only chance of getting out of there alive.

"Don't be stupid Sam," was her only response. "Just turn yourself in. You can't get away you know. The unit…"

"The unit will track me down? That's what you think?" Sam practically laughed in her face. "They tried and they failed. They aren't as powerful as the US Army makes them out to be."

"We brought you into our family. Let you eat off our plates," Molly countered taking a step back from him. "How could you betray us? How could you betray the unit?" she yelled at him indigently.

"The unit betrayed me," Sam commented tersely. It wasn't a lie. Sam felt betrayed by his team the minute Colonel Ryan had ordered him to attack RedCap. Even now that he was tasked with trying to protect his boss's wife, he felt like he ended up with the raw end of the deal. _What the hell's up with Jonas that he can't keep his wife under wraps? _

"We all have to make sacrifices Sam," Molly was babbling on the background. "We all know secrets that can't be told."

Sam rolled his eyes and mentally shook his head. _God I wish I was wearing a wire! General Heath thinks there's a leak? Yeah, it's standing right in front of me! _And as much as Sam wanted to let Molly and her big mouth hang herself, he knew he couldn't do it. He needed to shut her up and quick. He stepped a little closer to Molly and locked his gaze on her with the most evil glare he could muster.

"You know what? I'd like to blow that sanctimonious look right off your face," he informed her. His voice was low and thick, and he delivered the line with an unspoken threat, that he hoped instilled some sense into her head. Before he had a chance to say another word, a scream from Susan Gilliam echoed through the building.

"Wah? What are they doing to her?" Molly gasped as fear washed over her face.

"I imagine they are encouraging her to talk," Sam replied smugly. _So shut the hell up before you incriminate yourself dammit! _The words zipped through his mind just as they spilled out of Molly's mouth.

"Talk? She doesn't know anything about this operation!" Molly guffawed.

"And how would you know that?" Sam questioned her with a tone that screamed _shut the hell up. _He turned to look at her with a furrowed brow and tight dark eyes. "What do you know about this operation?" he retorted trying once again to implant a suggestion inside her head.

The door to the room popped open just then and the Gilliam's darted from it. The commotion that ensued was enough distraction to keep Molly from drawing any more attention to herself in front of Drake's number one man. Drake's order to get rid of the bodies and _take care of Molly _somewhere else gave Sam one true opportunity help her. If he was really the bad guy he was trying to be, he would have hog-tied her and stuffed her in the trunk. As it was, Sam looked back at her and caught her eye with a look that only said _run. _And she did, following his nonverbal order for once.

Except that he had no clue that she didn't know how to run. _Fricken Jonas didn't teach her how to escape and evade? _Sam thought as he walked out the front door of the building. She wasn't invisible hiding behind the van. He directed the other guy to head in the opposite way and said it loud enough for Molly to hear. If she darted off in the only direction left open, he could catch her under the train bridge and tell her which way to run to escape. _Go Molly, run, _he thought as he jumped in the car and started the ignition.

Again, Sam's plan was foiled by Molly's flat out stupidity. _Trying to wave down a moving train? Who was she trying to kid? _Sam pulled the gun on her because her pure ignorance was starting to piss him off. _She's a fricken handful! _He thought as he ordered her into the trunk. _Geezus! How the hell does Jonas put up with that? _He was relieved that for once she complied with his wishes … of course witnessing Sam's carefree attitude about killing the Gilliam's was probably a great motivator. Well, at least it sounded good on paper, until Molly started yelping and banging around in the rear of the car. Sam slammed the car in park and looked over at the other guy with an exasperated expression on his face.

"You got any tape?"

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Jacked up 5

Sam paced around the empty warehouse and peered out each window he passed. The building was one of several in Drake's network that served as safe houses for his terrorist friends. Seedy folk as they were, their lack of concern for human life was revolting. Killing those who got in the way was nothing to them. Just an hour ago, Sam witnessed one of Drake's men beat a homeless man to death with a flashlight just for sleeping in the doorway.

The senseless murder threw Molly into a hysterical freak out and a classic girlie struggle ensued. She was a hornet's nest of arms and legs and it took both Sam and Drake's number one, Jim Ballard to contain her. When she refused to calm down, Sam was forced to subdue her in a headlock until she passed out. Based on the way she fought him, Sam had no doubt that Molly thought he was trying to straggle her. _For as high and mighty as she pretends to be, _Jonas_ didn't teach her well at all. The ole man didn't teach you any self-defense moves? _Sam noted remembering how he taught his girlfriend to stand up for herself just in case. And then there was RedCap. The two of them had played around in the gym one night after training and she practically kicked his ass. She was no slouch the night he attacked her either... _Of course, Molly could always talk her attacker to death with that mouth of hers, _Sam thought smiling at the imaginary.

He looked over his shoulder to the mattress she was lying on and glanced down at his watch. Three a.m. She had been taking her "nap" for about thirty minutes, which was a little longer than a normal person would stay knocked out. While it concerned Sam, he was sure the adrenaline in her system had something to do with it. Without looking too suspicious, he had checked her pulse twice and made sure she was still breathing.

_That would be all I need, _Sam thought moving toward the center of the room where Ballard was asleep in the chair. _Accidentally killing her while she was flinging her arms around like a lunatic. _He shuddered at the words. No matter what the outcome of this jacked up mess, Sam McBride was going to have hell to pay with alpha team and all the orders in the world weren't going to explain it away.

Sam crossed the room in a flash when he heard a rustle on the cot. He stood above Molly as she stirred and put his finger to his lips. Hooking her elbow with his hand, he helped her into a sitting position and then, against his better judgment removed the gag from her mouth.

"What did you do to me?" Molly blurted out the second she was able to speak freely.

"Keep your voice down," Sam whispered back at her tersely. He looked over at Ballard who was still asleep in the chair. "You needed some sleep; you were getting a little crabby."

"So you drugged me," Molly half-asked half stated.

"I did no such thing," Sam said flatly. "Although your neck might hurt for a while."

"You choked me," she muttered turning her neck.

"I hardly choked you. It's a defensive move taught by Special Forces to subdue the opposition and allow them to be taken prisoner later," Sam informed her caustically.

"Why didn't you just kill me?" Molly whispered hoarsely.

"I'm not done with you yet," Sam remarked. "We weren't planning on your arrival, but I think my employer will find you a very valuable asset in the coming weeks." He paced in front of the cot in an intimidating manner, crossing his arms at his chest.

"The unit won't negotiate for my release," Molly retorted shaking her head rapidly.

Sam chuckled right in her face. "That's what you think? You've been watching to many crime dramas on TV." He watched Molly's face as his words settled in, first the flush of her indignation and then the realization that his intention … or perceived intention… was to kill Jonas.

"You're going…" she couldn't even mouth the words. Her voices cracked as tears formed in her eyes.

"What did you think was going to happen?" Sam laughed at her ignorance. "This ain't no picnic lunch lady."

"Jonas will kill you first," she blurted out. "He's better than you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sam quipped. He stalked around the cot and then stepped back to loom over her again. "That's your story and if that makes you sleep better at night, you keep on believing it. I've trained to kill targets that were just as crafty as Jonas Blaine and I've never missed."

"You throw a lot of big words into the air about your skills, so what happened to you at the car dealership?" Molly asked him with a somber voice and crisp words.

_Ugh, she's good, _Sam thought almost hearing the sizzle in the air. Good on so many fronts, keeping up the defiant attitude of hers, taunting him, sticking the plastic dinnerware into his back. She was playing right into his hand. He needed her to stay tough. Drake would like it and realize the value of keeping her alive.

"I didn't want to kill any innocents," Sam replied quietly, as if he was actually sorry things played out as they did.

"You didn't want to kill any innocents? What about Susan Gilliam?" Molly snapped. "She had nothing to do with this! Yet you and Colonel Ryan used her like a pawn."

"My mother has a word for people like you," Sam said quickly reversing the accusations. Maybe Susan Gilliam was innocent, maybe she wasn't … it didn't matter at this point. What did matter was that Molly Blaine after being told by the US Army to keep her nose out of it, velcroed herself to it. She _almost _deserved her fate and god forbid if anything happened to her, because General Heath would put that on the official report.

"You're a busy body," Sam continued waving his hands around to make his point. "In the beginning, you're the friendly neighborhood lady and are all nice. But then somewhere along the way, you start to be annoying and stick your nose in where it doesn't belong. You're a meddler," Sam replied with a cutting tone. He caught that sneering expression on her face and suddenly realized what Molly Blaine was desperate to be … why she couldn't heed Colonel Ryan's order to stand down. Molly Blaine was a sheep in wolf's clothing and the revelation completely shocked him. The army life that she had lived with Jonas for the past twenty years wasn't who she was dying to be. _Oh, ha ha ha … you think you can tell me about who I am? _Sam practically laughed aloud. _Let me just give you a taste of your own medicine lady!!! _

"Maybe you do it because you're bored with your life, maybe you need some excitement ... is that it? You're trying to live your life through the eyes of others? Is that what the draw was with Susan Gilliam? Her life a little more suited to your society level? Driving the fancy import car, going to the exclusive clubs, and the expensive restaurants sure beats life on the base doesn't it? It's an embarrassment for you to live on the base isn't it? Government housing, paycheck to paycheck, going to the exchange to buy your groceries? I bet you even qualified for WIC and food stamps when Betsy was a baby. You did didn't you? And it embarrassed you …it embarrassed you that you had to rely on others to make it. You grew up that way and suddenly you thought you were above it!" Sam laughed a little more loudly and pointed his finger right in her face.

"So while the other wives were fretting over being uprooted from po-dunk Kansas to beautiful sunny LA, you were in heaven weren't you? When Colonel Ryan ordered you to stand down and get your nose out of things, you couldn't because you were sucked into the lifestyle. The high society world. When Charlie fell in love with a millionaire, you felt threatened and had to make a fuss with the brass because it keep the spotlight on you! You say you did it to protect the unit … but you were really out there protecting your skin!" Sam's words echoed through the room and bounced off the walls as the silence fell between them. Molly's deer in the headlights expression was priceless. He pegged her spot on and for once she didn't have a smart ass come back to him.

Sam looked over his shoulder to check if Ballard was still asleep and noted the man hadn't move a muscle. He turned on his heel to walk away from her just as his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it without checking the caller id. The voice on the other end didn't surprise him much.

"I'm confirming the location of Molly Blaine," Colonel Ryan's surly voice snarked over the line.

"Oh, hi Dad," Sam said with a chuckle. "Don't worry I didn't forget about mom's birthday," he remarked glancing back in Molly's direction. "Yes, I bought her a present," he added flicking a little _good son _inflection in his voice.

"She's secured?"

Sam knew the question wasn't really a question. It was an order with consequences that he needed to carry out. "Ugh, you want to go to dinner at six? Ahh, I'll have to check my schedule. Today's not good for me. I got a lot on my plate with the job."

"See that you keep it that way."

"Let me get back to you on that, Dad," was Sam's only reply. "I'll call you later." He snapped the phone shut and shoved it back in his pants pocket. _Ugh, can my day get any worse? _

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Again thanks for the reviews.

Jacked Up 6

Molly was significantly quieter after Sam put her in her place. She still fought them and made a few snotty comments, but mostly she just kept her mouth shut. She had that far off look in her eye as if she was rehashing all the choices she had made in life that had brought her to this moment. Sam knew that look all too well. Regret. Every once in a while he allowed himself to wallow in it. A few seconds over a beer or when he was brushing his teeth or after he killed someone was all it took to remind himself that he was in a better place, doing better things than what could have been in his life.

Today was no different. He had many regrets to contemplate and lots of planning on the fly to worry about. _I need some caffeine, _he thought just as Ballard walked in the side door of the warehouse with familiar white cups in his hand. He didn't have much use for the guy, but at this second, the former Marine was his new best friend.

"Did you get something for her?" Sam asked as he picked up his cup from the tray.

"I didn't know we were feeding her," Ballard remarked casually glancing in Molly's direction to see her reaction. "People are more compliant when they're hungry."

"You learn that at Gitmo?" Whiplash asked setting the cup down on the table.

"Among other things," Ballard chuckled. "Just another of my illustrious tales as a US Marine."

Sam laughed sadistically with his partner and held back the urge to smash his skull in with the folding chair next to him. _I hate marines,_ he thought as he took a large gulp of the coffee. "I got plenty of those stories too," Sam said in between swallows.

"I'm sure you do. Got any ideas on what you're going to do with our package?" Ballard asked gesturing toward Molly.

"Ugh, I thought that was your department Einstein," Sam replied with a sly grin. "You're the one that brought her to the party."

"What was I supposed to do with her? She was at the pick up point with Gilliam's wife. I couldn't have her running off to the police," Ballard said shrugging his shoulders. "Little did I know she was a spy. Besides the boss told you to off her."

"Off her?" Sam questioned arching his brow at the odd choice of words. "I don't remember him saying that exactly."

"You know what I meant," Ballard replied setting his cup down. "What she was saying last night about inviting you into her family … what was that?"

"Her husband was my team lead," Sam remarked taking a final swallow of his coffee. "I was the new guy and she wanted to make me feel comfortable." He crunched the cup up in his hand and tossed it across the room.

"Oh yeah?" Ballard grunted with a sick expression on his face. "Maybe she needs make me feel comfortable," he said setting his cup down on the table.

Whiplash stared at the man without saying a word, not audibly anyway. There was no way in hell he was going to let Ballard do anything like he was implying to Molly. However, she didn't need to know that, the fear factor of the threat could work in his favor later. He watched Ballard walk to the cot where Molly was sitting and circle her like a predator. Sam knew that Molly heard every word they had said and now she was practically daring Ballard to touch her. As amusing as it was to watch, Sam could barely stomach it. _Five, four, three, two, one, _he counted off as he held his breath while Ballard messed around with Molly's hair and touched the side of her face with the barrel of his gun. She squirmed out of his reach and when a muffled scream escaped her gag, Whiplash couldn't take it anymore.

"Ah, I'd be careful if I were you," Sam blurted out just as Ballard tried to touch her breast. A hint of the memory of Bob's wave off at the bar raced through his mind as he scrambled for a reason that Ballard needed to step off. _Other than if you touch her again, I'm going to kill you_. "Yeah, rumor on the base was that she had VD." He mentally winced at the archaic word and chided himself for having to play the bastard.

Ballard's hand froze in mid air and he glanced up at Sam twenty feet away. "VD? As in venereal disease?"

"Yeah … venereal disease, STD … whatever it is they call it for females," Sam said nonchalantly. "She sleeps around. _A lot_. God only knows what kinda infestation she's got."

He watched Ballard shove Molly hard against the cot and saw a look of relief in her eyes, yet he kept a stone face and narrowed his eyes in a cold hard way. He didn't need Molly thinking he was getting soft or being nice to her now. Her holy-than-thou attitude was still really pissing him off. All his life he had to put up with people from the "privileged" side of the tracks. It was nauseating to live with people who thought they were better than everyone else, deserved more than everyone else did. So, yeah, it bothered him to find out that Molly was one of _those_ people … when Jonas so clearly wasn't. _No wonder why he can't keep her in check. Wonder what else she is up too when we're out saving the world, _Sam considered as he looked over her in disgust.

He didn't have long to contemplate it because Ballard's cell phone rang with a rushed order from the boss to move out. Molly was none too cooperative while Sam manhandled her down a flight of stairs, threatening at one point to let her fall on her head. She continued to struggle at the car and it didn't take long for either man to get annoyed with her fight for freedom. _Like she'd even get away? _Sam thought as he looked around the street. _I guess she could run down the street and try to flag down a city bus … but knowing her, she'd probably run into that abandoned building and look for a phone booth or something. _Sam slammed the trunk lid down and jumped in the passenger's seat of the car. He sighed heavily when Molly started banging around inside the car again.

"I think you need to put her in a headlock again," Ballard muttered under his breath as he drove down the street.

"Naah, not a good idea. She might die from carbon dioxide poisoning then," Sam replied running his hand across his forehead.

"Like that would be a big loss?" Ballard questioned.

"She's no good to us dead," Sam barked. The car slowed at a stop light and the pounding from the trunk got a little louder. "Geezus! Find somewhere secluded quick!" Sam directed the driver, as he craned his neck to see if anyone was noticing the noise coming from their car.

The call from Drake was unexpected, but the information was nothing Sam didn't already know. Russians, hit team, and finally a way to dump Molly back into the safety of her husband's arms so he could get on with things. The plan came together quickly in his head and even though he didn't exactly need Molly to make it all play out, he made it look like he did.

"Turn her around," Sam said as he walked toward Molly. He watched her struggle in Ballard's grasp and he reached in tentatively to pull the gag down.

"What do you want from me?" she asked with a cocky sneer. She pulled away from the two of them again and Sam caught her firmly by the arm.

"You and Jonas, all those years you've been married … you must have a way to reach each other in emergencies," Sam stated looking deep into her eyes with the meanest glare he could muster. "A secret code?"

Molly practically laughed in his face. "No we don't," she replied flippantly.

"No," Sam nodded. It didn't go unnoticed that she was trembling in his grasp. He knew she was lying, still trying to be tough despite that both men could do heinous things to her at any given moment. He let go of her arm and pulled out his gun. "Well, that's too bad. Guess you're no use to me after all," he added leveling his weapon right at her face.

Looking down the muzzle of the gun only changed Molly's attitude slightly. "Even if we did, why would I tell you," she quizzed him, trying to buy time before her demise. "You're just going to kill me anyway."

"I've been nice to you up to this point," Sam said swiftly. "But if you don't give me that code, I'm going to kill you right now." He didn't move the gun one inch and kept his eyes trailed on her face.

"Think about it, what if I lie? What if it doesn't work?" Molly answered, still trying to be confident despite her situation.

_What if? _Sam thought as he decided to auntie-up the stakes. He cocked the gun slowly, so the sound of the bullet sliding in the chamber echoed loudly in Molly's ear. "My strong advice to you is to make sure it does," he replied shoving the gun a little closer to her heart.

"The point is, you want to get my husband's attention. The only way you can do that is to keep me alive," Molly remarked crisply and slowly. She took the bait, hook, line and sinker.

_Finally you idiot! _Sam smirked looking over at Ballard, who had a similar expression on his face, although for hardly the same reasons. Sam watched a smug grin creep across her face. Her compliance set his plan into motion and he'd let her think she held all the cards for the moment. If things went his way, both she and Jonas would realize the truth soon enough anyway.

"Get in the car."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Jacked Up 7

"I can't believe she's actually doing it," Ballard commented as he put the scope of the gun on Molly. "She's just sitting there like nothings up."

"How would you act if six guns were trailed on your head?" Sam replied checking out the team with his binoculars.

"She was a little more cooperative after you let her go to the bathroom," Ballard comment looking over at Sam. "Mouthwash and toothpaste were always a good motivator when I was in the Marines."

"Ha!" Sam chuckled in agreement. "Who you kidding … there were times in the army when I'd give my left nut to brush my teeth. It's amazing what a lil soap and water will do for a person."

"Yeah, I have no idea how they do it on Survivor," Ballard agreed shuffling his feet. "Of course for a million dollars, I'd do just about anything."

"Yeah," Sam grunted as he looked at the horizon, squinting his eyes to the sun. He knew Jonas and Molly had a code, everyone did. Based on the intel Drake had provided, Sam was sure Jonas and the team were at the safe house. He just found it a little odd that Jonas would answer a call from his wife in the middle of the operation. _What'd'ya think she wanted? Honey can you get some milk on your way home from work? _Sam rolled his eyes at the ridiculous thought and shoved the binoculars back in his pocket.

"He's here, twelve oh clock," Sam said to Ballard, standing on point with the sniper rifle. Drake had been skeptical that Jonas would show up here, but Sam knew the man a little too well. He purposely used his own cell phone, left it on so RedCap could trace it and put the locator on him. "Black coat, purple shirt."

"Who dressed him?" Ballard asked as he lined him up in his sights.

"You don't have to be a fashion expert to be in the army," Sam replied pulling his phone from his pocket.

"That's why the Marines have a better reputation," Ballard remarked.

"That's coming from the guy who got kicked out?" Whiplash joked as he watched Jonas get settled at the table next to Molly. _Okay, here goes nothing Snakedoc, I'm going to throw you a line, and dammit! You better bite cuz I'm only gonna get one chance at this, _Sam thought as he counted out the seconds in his head before dialing Jonas's number again. "What are you doing Snakedoc?' Sam asked his boss when he answered the phone.

"Listening to you. What do you want?"

"Do what I say and you both can walk away," Sam said plainly. _Here goes my counter mission, _he thought as he gave Jonas vital information about the safe house. He knew damn well that none of those guys were going to get out of there alive and frankly he was excited about it. His only objective at this point was to make sure that Molly and Jonas made it out unscathed. "I have five, repeat five men walking out of that safe house. They are not to be harmed or followed. If anything happens to them, you know whats going to happen to you. Once they are safely in the wind, you and Molly can go on your merry way," Sam briefed his team lead as if they were working together on this op. _We are in a small way, _Sam convinced himself. _Jonas just doesn't know it yet. _

"You got us in your sights Sam, why would I believe you'll let us go?"

"What happened to trust?" Sam quipped. _It's either help you escape or face life in Leavenworth, _he told himself silently as he informed Jonas what he wanted him to do next.

It all seemed to be working out nicely. The word from the safe house was that Mack had dropped his weapon. Drake's guys were heading to the car. Sam kept a keen eye on Ballard and his team lead waiting for someone to make a move. Sam was in the best position in the world. He knew what the bad guys were planning and what the good guys response was going to be and himself? Well, he was ready for anything. It wouldn't take much to eliminate Ballard and take Drake out with one shot. He had been to the range with Ballard once and knew the guy could barely hit the broad side of a barn.

So when the bullets start whizzing and everyone start to run, Sam kept his eye on Molly and Jonas while Ballard fumbled to get off a shot. _So much for that sniper experience you lied to Drake about, _Sam noted as he ducked a near hit from Jonas's weapon. When he heard Jonas yell at Molly to run, Sam could barely hold in the chuckles. _Good luck with that, _he thought as he told Ballard to drop the rifle and the two chased after Jonas and Molly to cut them off at the pass. Sam figured Jonas would go for the tunnel, because the other escape route was filled with people and too many obstacles for a clean get-away.

"Hold up or we'll shoot Molly. Drop it Jonas," Sam yelled as he and Ballard blocked the exit and put Jonas on the defense with two guns trailed on them . For the first time since he joined the unit, Sam sensed confusion from his boss … not knowing where to point his weapon, unsure of what target was a bigger threat. Sam found it a little ironic because he was sure that Jonas could take them both in the time it would take all four to blink. Sam made the decision for him instead, turning on his heel and putting a double tap into Ballard's chest. _Now he's really confused, _Whiplash noted locking the safety in place and sliding his gun toward Jonas.

"You took out Ballard and got the drop on me, but I was too fast. Make it look good," Sam said crisply trailing his gaze from Molly to Jonas. The two shared the same expression. _Guess what they say about married people acting alike is true,_ Sam thought as he yelled at Jonas to snap him to action.

"Do it! Hurry!" he yelled as the police sirens closed in on the location. Jonas only hesitated another second before firing a round into Sam's right bicep. "Agh dammit!" he growled as he dropped to his knees. _That's going to leave a mark, _Sam grumbled as Jonas and Molly ran past him out of the tunnel. Sam struggled to his feet and scrambled off in the other direction.

_At least he didn't shoot me in the knee._

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Jacked Up, Final Chapter.

Pacing had become Sam McBride's best friend. It was nearly his life now. He got some intel and then paced and waited. If he was lucky, occasionally he was afforded some sleep and some food, but mostly he just paced. Today was no different from another, except that instead of sleeping with the enemy, he was standing in a brothel waiting for his contact to arrive. Sam ran his hand over his upper arm, feeling the rough texture of the bandage coving his gunshot wound. _I've stood on point on many nights, so why is this one rendezvous making me so damn nervous? _he wondered as he peeked out the window. _Don't suppose the fact that I held a gun to his wife's head has anything to do with it,_ he added wincing at the thought of Jonas busting through the door and ripping him apart limb by limb.

"Still on the team?"

The voice jolted Sam from reverie. "Never left," he answered turning to face the formidable team lead.

"Quite a cover you built for yourself," Jonas went on as he made his way around the room picking at random items, looking for bugs. "Rapist, malcontent, terrorist henchman …"

"Thanks Sergeant," he muttered waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I stepped on a few toes in the pantomime. My only regret is what I put Bridget through." He watched Jonas eyeball him.

"And my wife?"

"She was an unexpected variable," Sam replied. "I tried to protect her." He looked up at Blaine and noticed the man was still staring at him. Jonas's face was a blank slate. _So much for trying to read the guy, _Sam thought swallowing hard.

"I know," Jonas finally remarked. "She told me."

"Ugh," Sam grunted wondering exactly how that conversation had gone. _He never tried to kill me honey, he just shoved a gun in my face two or three times. _He rolled his eyes at the image.

"No hard feelings," Jonas remarked suddenly cutting the ice in the air. A mischievous grin crossed his face. "Molly can be ah…"

"Handful?" Sam finished his sentence cautiously.

"I was going to say pain in the ass, but yeah," Jonas chuckled. "I hope she didn't compromise your cover."

"I kept her off Drake's radar and I whacked the only guy that would have been suspicious," Sam replied. "Drake's waiting on me."

"Where is he now?"

"He's down the road. I told him that I needed to relieve a little tension," Sam remarked carefully lifting the edge of the curtain to look out the window.

"He sympathize?"

"He seemed too," Sam said stepping across the room. "I just hope others can as well," he muttered under his breath.

"You were on a mission," Jonas said plainly. "Besides the team…" his voice trailed off and he shrugged his shoulders. "'I've suspected for awhile."

That caught Sam off guard a bit. "How long?" Sam guffawed completely stumped.

"Since the stand-off," Jonas said flatly.

"You've known since the stand off," Sam repeated not believing it.

"You didn't play your hand very well Sergeant. A rogue soldier wouldn't have anything to lose, wouldn't have hesitated to hurt another or pull the trigger on himself," Jonas practically lectured him.

Sam blinked as his team lead quietly analyzed his rogue performance. _He's full of crap,_ Sam surmised as he listened to the senior man's words. "You didn't know since the stand-off," Sam said shaking his head. "I'd say you found out exactly when I let you in, two days ago in the tunnel."

Jonas pursed his lips and stared at Sam with stone eyes for a moment before his features softened. "Oh, you think you're smart don't you."

"I am smart," Sam nodded. "Admit it, you didn't know."

"Why…"

"Ah, just answer the question. It bodes to my ability to maintain the cover."

Jonas hesitated for a moment before revealing his cards. "Bob knew since the standoff," Jonas conceded making no further comment regarding himself. "He saw Ryan slip you the lighter."

"And you?" Sam pressed.

"Suffice it to say, I was suspicious,"

"And yet you shot me!"

"You told me too," Jonas replied with a sly grin. "Be thankful I just shot you in the arm. I was going to take out your knee."

"I probably deserved the knee more," Sam said ruefully.

"Yeah, well, I'll reserve the right to recall that option if we don't take Drake down," Jonas said crisply bringing the two men back to the matter at hand.

-0-

Sweat dripped off his brow and his muscles burned with fatigue. An agonizing moan filled the air as the weight bar clanked back into the safety of the rack. Another grunt rolled the lifter up so he could rest his forearms on his knees. Water from a bottle dumped into his mouth splashed haphazardly across his face and ran down his chin. He scanned the room and smirked at the familiar setting. He was home, ironically the first home he had in years, yet things weren't quite right. Some things time would fix, some things might never be right again.

Sam sighed and picked a towel up from the floor. He ran the rough fabric across his face and neck, to wipe away the sweat and push away the memories of the past few weeks. Alpha team, Jonas, Mack, Bob and Charles, they all understood. They knew like some unwritten code that it was way of life for them. Bravo team got it unconditionally. The other guys that he passed in the corridor and the members of the TOC didn't even question it. All of the unit members lived it every day and to them, what Sam had been ordered to do was just another day in an operator's life. Even RedCap knew how it worked, but Bridget … Bridget was another story.

RedCap and Bridget were one and the same, at least in theory anyway. They shared the same body and the same moods, but they were different people inside. RedCap was a team member. She was skilled, confident and resourceful. She understood the inter-workings of the operation and the sacrifices that sometimes had to be made. Bridget was a woman with feelings and emotion. As strong as she was in her groove, she could be hurt and manipulated and in the wrong circumstances be taken advantage of. _Like Ryan did on this mission, _he contemplated at he stared blankly at the floor.

"Or I did by going through with it," Sam mumbled. He tossed the towel over his shoulder and stood up from the weight bench. He walked out of the gym and across the hallway in to the locker room. "Get over it McBride," he whispered as he pulled open the door. He could only wish it was so easy. He could use that bio-feedback crap to stow his emotion over what he had to do to accomplish his objective. He could write up a thousand reports, face ten or twelve inquiry boards, and pass them all with flying colors.

_Not that any of it really matters_, _I'm still here, I still have a place on the team, _Sam thought as he shuffled around the corner to his locker. "Bridgett," Sam exclaimed when he came face to face with her on the other side of the lockers.

"Sam," she squawked looking equally startled.

"I ah… I didn't knaah, I can leave," he mumbled stumbling over his words. He started walking backward in retreat and nearly tripped over the top of Sergeant Bohrman from Charley team.

"No," Bridgett said shutting the door to her locker. "Sergeant can you give us the room?"

Sam watched as Bohrman exited the room and then looked back at Bridget as she weaved through the tables. He was suddenly nervous in her presence, not knowing how she was going to act. _Is she going to burst into tears like she nearly did in the TOC or kick my ass? _he wondered as he watched her.

"You were right," she finally said breaking the silence. "Right that people would take advantage of me."

"I took advantage," he agreed. "I used things you confided to me against you." Sam leaned against the locker and pulled the towel of his shoulder just to have something to do with his hands.

"No, I meant the army," she said. "You warned me … and you were right. Makes me wonder," she said her voice trailing off into nothing.

"About what?"

"What I'm doing here?" she asked ruefully. "If all the army thinks is that all I am is a skirt that can be manipulated as they see fit, then what am I doing here?"

"Is that what you think?" he asked. _If this is a pity party, I'm leaving early, _he thought pushing off the locker.

"Apparently it doesn't matter what I think," she said. It didn't go unnoticed to Sam that her bottom lip was quivering again, or that her eyes had welled up with tears.

"You didn't answer my question," he said pulling a chair out from a table and flipping it around before resting his foot on it. "Is that what you think?"

"Think about what?" Bridgett snapped back at him.

"About yourself. About your position with the unit," Sam prodded her into a response.

"I'm not part of the team. You said so yourself."

"Ha!" Sam chuckled shaking his head. "I'm not the one that doesn't think you're part of the team." Sam pointed at his chest while he was talking. "We all think you're part of the team. It's _you_ that doesn't believe it."

"I don't believe it?" Bridgett guffawed at him. "I believe it."

"Do you?" he questioned her. "Cuz you're talking like you're giving up and that isn't team member material."

"Some battles aren't worth the fight," Bridgett replied crisply.

Sam laughed and pushed back from the chair. He paced around the table and pointed his finger in her direction. "That's what you think Bridge? You know what? I spent eighteen hours with Molly Blaine. Eighteen long hours trying to keep her alive so Jonas didn't slice me to bits. I threatened to kill her twice! I held a gun to her head three times and you know what? She never backed down from me. She never begged for her life. She fought me all the way until the end. She fought me with courage. She was annoying as hell but she impressed the shit out of me!" Sam said flatly. "She picked her battles and she never gave up."

"You think I'm giving up?" Bridgett scuffed. She stood up from the table and headed for the door. "You don't know me very well."

"I know you well enough," Sam said quickly. "Like I knew you would fight me that night." The words cut through the air and stopped Bridget in her tracks.

She turned on her heel with an incredulously expression on her face. "Excuse me?"

"I knew you would fight me that night," he repeated.

"And if I hadn't?"

"I would have stopped," Sam said flatly. "I would have retreated and thought of a different strategy for my exit. And for the record, it would have never gone any farther than it did."

Sam watched Bridgett carefully and saw the confused expression on her face. "I don't understand…" she muttered with a perplexed look in her eye.

"Did you think that it would?" Sam prompted her. "Honestly?" He waited for a second for her to answer. When she didn't he went on to explain himself. "What did you tell me at the bar in Paris?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Bridgett asked with an irritated tone.

"What did you say? About the drunk at the bar?"

"I don't like men that drink too much," Bridgett replied crossing her arms impatiently at her chest.

"No, you said you hate obnoxious drunk guys," Sam corrected her. "And why did you curse me out after I told him to buzz off?" "

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I said I could take care of myself."

"A series of events occurred that night to set my plan into motion," Sam said walking closer to where she was standing. "I irritated you during the op for no other reason than to get under your skin. I drank a couple of beers fast enough to give the appearance of being drunk. I made some rude obnoxious comments that were solely directed at you and the ultimate bad idea ….I hit on you at the bar. All things that I know really piss you off … and then, the icing on the cake, which I hadn't even planned for, was when Bob swooped in to warn me off." Sam leaned against the locker with a wicked grin crawling across his face. "So when I showed up in the parking lot of your apartment and tempted fate…"

"I was ticked off enough to fight you," Bridgett said filling in the blanks.

"You played right into the ruse," Sam said filling the air with fast talking rhetoric trying to convince Bridgett that she wasn't the victim in this whole mess.

"There was no way you could have known I wouldn't call the police," Bridgett tried to argue.

"Yeah there was," he interrupted. "It's not your style … it's not our style. It's unit tradition to keep our dirty laundry in house. And whether you want to admit it or not Bridge, … you knew, you knew inside there was a reason for my actions." He watched Bridgett mill around the room and shake her head, like she was waging a silent argument with him. "That's why you told Colonel Ryan that you didn't want to make a report." Sam gave her a knowing look and when surprise crossed her features, he shrugged his shoulders. "Bob told me," he added.

"Is that supposed to make everything right?" she asked as emotion rippled across her face.

_Of course not, why would anything be easy,_ Sam thought turning to walk toward the refrigerator. _I practically beg for forgiveness from her and she shoves it back in my face. _"Umm no," Sam answered swinging the door open. "You thirsty? You wanna beer?" he asked reaching in for two. He popped both lids and held the bottle out for her to take. A peace offering of sorts. _Guys do it … wallow in their shared misery over a cold beer, _he reasoned with himself. A few more seconds ticked off the clock before she made any move toward him.

"This doesn't make up for anything you know," she said reaching for the bottle.

"I never said it did," he replied taking a swig of the beer. The familiar taste of beer and regret flooded his senses. He pulled out the closest chair and sat down. "I never said it did and honestly it shouldn't." Despite how much he wanted to make this right with her, making it right wasn't the answer. It needed to fix itself naturally.

The two shared the beer in silence as Sam looked everywhere in the room but at her. He couldn't. Yesterday she was his friend and tomorrow she may be again, but today she needed to work through her feelings. _Because nothing in my life is just that easy, _he reminded himself as he stood to get another beer. He pulled two again and twisted the lids off the bottles. This time when he sat down, he held her gaze and sought some understanding in her eyes. After a moment, she gave it to him.

"To the team?" Sam ventured holding the neck of the bottle toward her waiting to clink the glass together.

"To the team," she agreed tapping his bottle with hers. She took a swig of the liquid and leaned forward at the table. "I'm still mad at you though," she added quietly.

"I wouldn't want it any other way," Sam said lifting the bottle his lips. He took a long swallow and closed his eyes as the fluid flushed through veins. _On a mission assigned by the general, I attacked my friend, held the boss's wife at gun point while I tried to save her life, got arrested for locking myself in an office at a car dealership and in the end helped save the world. _"It bodes to my life," he said as an afterthought.

"How's that?" Bridgett asked him.

"Huh …. You need to ask?" Sam questioned her with a raised eyebrow. "Normal is too easy. Suffice it to say, my life is just jacked up."

THE END

A/N: Thanks for reading and the reviews. I felt compelled to write this story after hanging out on the message boards and reading everybody slam Sam. Even though I thought he was a little creepy with all that jumping he did in the first episode … I thought he was still a good guy. I think it's really easy to write tags to The Unit because the characters are dying to be heard. (Especially now that they've been cancelled). I have Bridgett and Molly's versions in the works, so stay tuned to your favorite bat channel for updates. 


End file.
